


Strange Trees

by f1rstperson



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos kind of loses it, Gen, Gore, Horror, I might kind of suck at horror and instead it just turns into grossness, general grossness, injuries, misc science peoples, vomiting (not in a kinky way?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f1rstperson/pseuds/f1rstperson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Whispering Forest bears fruit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Trees

**Author's Note:**

> From the kinkmeme prompt: The Whispering Forest is bearing fruit.
> 
> I'm probably going to come back and edit this some more because i haven't at all and it's 2am. So sorry if there are typos or general incoherency.

Carlos and his team sat under the shade of the Whispering Forest, laying out their notebooks and recording devices. They had set up three blue-grey tents behind them, two for people and one for equipment and samples. A strange silence hung throughout the forest, its only interruption was the rattling sounds from loose grey bark in the wind. Above the scientists, on the contorted branches of the trees, were hundreds of flat brown-red flowers. Black liquid stained the bark around the flowers. The flowers themselves were sponge-like and warm to the touch. They were very similar in several ways to flowers from the Rafflesia genus, the most noticeable similarity being its smell. 

A scent like the sludgy liquid from the bottom of a trash heap had descended over the forest. Carlos had only ever smelled one thing like it, when he bought his first apartment and a few months later a heavy, pungent smell began to emanate from the shut-in next door. Of course, she had died who knows how long ago, her bloated corpse sagging into her old arm chair. At the time, there was no escaping that smell. It was forever burned into his throat, he’d never forget the taste of that soggy, pungent air. 

Carlos couldn’t escape the smell from the forest either, even with a face-mask it still managed to sneak through. He felt like he was suffocating in it; every breath he drew in was poisoned with that rotten air. And of course, the closer he got to the flowers, the worse it became.

But the flowers were too much of a mystery to scare Carlos off that easily. It didn’t make any sense to him. The trees replicate by gaining new human volunteers, so why would they need to flower? There was no sign that pollination was occurring, no animals or insects to be seen. Why would the Whispering Forest waste energy to produce flowers that accomplished nothing? 

Days went by with no changes to the Forest, except that the smell kept growing stronger. After a week had passed it grown so intense that two of Carlos’ assistants left, leaving three people remaining including Carlos. Carlos had desperately wanted to follow the ones who let. The smell was inescapable, and he found himself becoming more and more nauseous as each day passed. He was constantly coated in sweat, his throat tight, and his head dizzy. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on the edge of discovering something. It was that feeling of adrenaline, of focus that he always got part-ways into an experiment, and he knew if he left now he’d feel worse at not having grasped whatever knowledge was just out of his reach. Why was the Forest silent? What did that mean for the people who had become a part of it? He had to know.

Carlos and his two remaining assistants were woken up by a soft, monotone hum that next morning. They left their tents to find that the flowers had all curled into themselves, as if they had become buds again. The smell had completely disappeared, much to everyone’s relief. They pried back the thick petals only to find a small black fruit forming in the middle, no bigger than a walnut. Immediately, the scientists began gathering equipment to remove the fruit, but the second that Carlos’ knife touched the fruit’s skin the Forest let out a piercing scream. It kept howling until the knife was put away. Then, it resumed its soft humming, ignoring the scientist’s questions.

All three scientists felt renewed by the changes in the Forest, despite being unable to collect samples. The smell had made simple observations a struggle to take down , even though they had specially approved pens from the City Council. It had been so strong and viscous in the air, the more they'd breathed in the more their writing blurred and wobbled. But now, the air was crisp and clear. It was delicious without having any taste, like water after hours of parched throats and dry lips. Carlos had called the two scientists who had left, babbling excitedly into his cell about the recent developments in the Forest, but they both refused to come back, unable to directly explain what was keeping them away but becoming more and more frantic with each refusal. They begged Carlos and his team to return too, but Carlos wouldn't hear it, hanging up his phone halfway through their pleading.

The fruit grew at an impressive rate, swelling to the size of large grapefruits after less than two days, their outline visible through the thick, curled petals of the flowers. Around the flowers, the black stains on the bark had begun to bulge as well. The area was soft, giving way to Carlos’ finger as he prodded it. The trees let out a low gurgle when touched, but otherwise remained uncommunicative. Their humming had gradually become louder as each day passed, but it wasn't unpleasant, just a bit eerie. It almost seemed like the entire Forest was holding its breath, putting all its focus and energy into staying still yet bursting with jittery anticipation.

Carlos was bursting with it too, could taste the anticipation. He was at that sharp edge between hard-earned understanding, and the muddled, claustrophobic feeling of not knowing. He could barely sleep at night, kept awake by the knowledge that whatever was coming, it was coming soon. In the few moments where he did manage to sleep it was light and restless, an indiscernible cross between unfocused thoughts and actual unconsciousness. He would wake at the slightest noise, his mind immediately on the Forest. Cecil had called several times, but he ignored it; they could talk after. He promised himself that he would make it up to Cecil once he got back. Everything would be effortless and fantastic while he was riding out the aftershocks of his soon to come discovery, and surely Cecil would be happy about it too. Somehow, Carlos managed to fall asleep, a thousand different possibilities jolting through his mind. 

His team woke in the early hours of the morning, and immediately they all knew something was happening. The low hum that had filled the Forest for the past few days had turned into a harmonic “aah” sound. Carlos rushed out of his tent, excitement devouring any remaining sleepiness in his mind. Soft morning light hit the forest at an angle, creating long, twisted black shadows on the ground. Carlos couldn’t help thinking they looked like ashen outlines left behind from a forest fire. 

The fruits had grown so fat and large that they hung beyond the petals, sagging downwards. They had changed so much in the past few days, from small, black, and wrinkled things to bulbous, smooth, and dark-red fruit. One of Carlos’ assistants pointed out that the swelling and black stain in the bark had completely disappeared. None of them had any guesses as to what that meant, but all of them could feel that after a few minutes more they wouldn't have to guess. 

As the sun rose higher the tree’s singing too raise in pitch and volume. Carlos was bouncing on the balls of his feet. His thoughts were all white noise and elation. A fantasy bloomed in his head, one he immediately stamped out as unprofessional and scientifically irresponsible, but still it remained there: He wanted to taste the fruit, to dig his teeth into it and tear its skin. To break it down and absorb it on every level possible. He wanted the blood-red juice, wanted to taste the sour and sweet liquids on his tongue. He wanted to bolt from this mystery to every other one in Night Vale, and disassemble all of it, tearing frantically at the seams of this strange city until everything lay in shambles at his feet. Carlos laughed, his head dizzy with the thrill of everything that was going on, and that fantastic feeling inside him was right on the verge of being too much, it almost hurt, but in this moment everything was perfect. His assistants gave him a side-ways glance but said nothing, and Carlos’ body shook harder with the strain of laughter.

Within minutes, the unified “aah” noise coming from the trees morphed into a high pitched scream. Carlos tried to catch his breath but couldn’t. The shrill, inhuman noise drowned out the sound of his laughter. His chest vibrated with the noise, ribs and heart quivering from it. Tears streamed down Carlos’ face, his face cramped from all the smiling. This teeth gashed against one another as he opened and closed his mouth, sounding like nails on a chalkboard. There was a sharp ache in his ears, as if his head had just smashed into a slab of concrete. Carlos made no attempt to block out the noise, and tried as best he could to keep his eye on the fruit, even though his vision was quivering. The other two scientists were holding their ears, their eyes tightly shut, and Carlos to yell at them, but he had no breath to yell with, and even if he had he knew he wouldn’t be heard over the howling from the trees. 

The noise from the trees climbed higher and higher, a hard buzz in Carlo's ears. Suddenly, there was a sickening pop from Carlos’ left ear, and it flooded with pressure and total silence. Carlos felt the world stagger and wind, he fell down to one knee. There was a piercing pain in his ear, but he still couldn’t stop his laughter, still couldn’t tear his gaze from the fruit hanging above him.

Then the noise cut out, all at once. Carlos let out a breathy string of giggles before finally catching his breath, unable to continue because every movement he made jostled the dense pressure in his ear. He let his bad side tilt down towards the ground, turning his good ear up towards the Forest. Next to him, his assistants were still cowering, letting out small whimpers. His vision continued to cant, objects and colors running into each other as if he were squinting, but Carlos kept his focus on the fruit.

There was a dull bursting noise from the fruit above him. It was like someone had unknowingly cut into the pocket of an abscess, in both the sound from the burst fruit and the smell. Carlos gagged as chunks of something wet and warm fell onto him, splattering on his hair and clothes. In the distance, more fruits began to burst. One of Carlos assistants let out a nasally scream of, “Shit! FUCK!” and Carlos turned back to see what was the matter. All he saw was both of them running away from the Forest, their images zigzagging with the trees. Carlos tried to call after them but his throat was torn, and his lungs still burnt from breathlessness. As he opened his mouth, the damp, rancid smell filled it, settling on his tongue, and he gagged again. 

Carlos staggered towards the fleshy piles below the burst fruit, rubbing the thick, light brown liquid between his fingers. He began to sift through the pile, the chunks of flesh making wet, squelching noises as he shifted them around. The smell made his nose burn, and more than once he had to stop to turn his head to the side and heave, the silence in his ear throbbed viciously he opened his jaw and let bile flow out his mouth. All the energy from before had sizzled away in one moment, leaving him feeling incredibly wide-open and empty. Carlos knew, on some level, that he was moving hopelessly, automatically, trying to find something that would bring that flood of excitement back. Everything seemed surreal and distant, even as he held the remains of the fruit warm and wet in his hands. 

He was about to give up and start trailing after his assistants when he felt something different. Something rubbery and round. His heart began to pound, and he let out a feeble, wheezing laugh. There was a mantra in his head of, "this is it". Carlos grabbed it and pulled it out: In his hand lay an eyeball, fleshy nerves trailing off it like parasitic worms. He started and threw the eye away from him. His heart seemed to be jumping now, each beat pounding in his deaf ear. He took a closer look at all the piles surrounding him. Now he saw the bits of jagged bones, poking out of the brown-red flesh as if they had been partially digested. He saw fragments of hearts, spleens, livers, and lungs too. Some even had knotted bits of hair in them. Carlos looked up, and saw a downpour of brown-red flesh coming from the trees. The fruit hung like a stretched, cut balloon, sludge-like water and flesh dripping off it. From a few of the fruit, long purple intestines dangled out, glistening in the sunlight. Fear and nausea crashed into Carlos at full force, and he barely managed to turn his throat seized up and he vomited. 

Carlos rose and tried to run away, leaving behind all his notes and equipment, but he didn’t care. He felt completely hollowed out inside, his body drenched with greasy sweat and shivering like he had a fever. His ear was still pulsating, the weight of the pressure making Carlos' vision spin. Salty bile continued to travel up his throat, and he had to pause to vomit a few times more. Still, Carlos ran as much as he could, holding his ear and gasping for breath. There was a splash and a sharp crack as Carlos trampled through a pile, crushing flesh and bone underfoot. He kept going, his foot slipping in the blood and other oozing human remains. 

Finally, he breached the outside of the Forest. He paused, chest heaving yet he still felt light-headed as ever. The smell seemed to follow him but it was nowhere near as bad as it had been in the Forest. Carlos heard tiny, soft voices calling to him. At first he brushed it off as a hallucination caused by his injury, but as he listened harder with his one good ear he could make out the voice of the Forest calling,  
“Come back to us. Come back. Please, come back.”

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/f1rstperson


End file.
